


The Replicator

by pseudomancer



Category: Worm - Wildbow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10757949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudomancer/pseuds/pseudomancer
Summary: Taylor Hebert is a tinker with a mastery for sophisticated robotics. She doesn't have a poster-child start to her career as a hero.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of the work I placed on Spacebattles. Some initial bits that I liked are lifted from the original.

A door burst open and fines of smoke bloomed into the room. They cascaded up the walls and rolled over the cracked ceiling while a man in armor black as night strode in. He turned his skull-faced head and scanned the room, identifying the target.

"I've found her," he said out loud, "I'll be out of here in a second."

He strode toward the prisoner. The sudden entrance had caused her head to snap up from the black-topped lab table she was up against. She had wide brown eyes and messy, long black hair. It clawed her, matted to her pallid face. With crows nesting under her vacant eyes, she looked like shit. She was dressed in a dirty white lab coat - only spots of speckled white remaining on it. It otherwise looked pink, brown, scarlet and yellow all over. Her jaw became unhinged when he drew a gun from his side. She shielded her face with her arms and wrenched her eyes shut.

Bang. Bang. 

Two slow shots aimed to her side. The bullets impacted a chain that was set into the far off wall. Her face had flinched with both shots, her eyes slowly opening when it dawned on her there was no pain. He holstered the gun.

"Sorry," he said, "I didn't think for a second there. I should have told you, I'm here to rescue you. But hey, it's been a while. Recognize me?" He almost laughed, but the tension in his voice was too thick, "I'm a bundle of nerves myself right now. I'm Grue, by the way. But you can call me Brian if you'd like."

A strong hand cupped hers, pulling her a step from the lab table. Her chain rattled as the pair moved a few more feet.

"R-rescue?"

She looked down at the shattered chain, the manacle still cuffed at her ankle, and then at his hand.

"Yes. You're Taylor, right? You're probably wondering why we're here- But we don't have time to discuss that, so let's get moving-"

"N-No, you can't r-rescue me," she was trembling in his grasp, her wide lips stuttering. Her eyes were wet, "Th-There's a b-b-bomb in my head."

Taylor's stuttering was not from fear or anxiety, though for sure Grue could see such things in her tense eyes and gritted teeth. Her stuttering was involuntary and jerky, like how a record repeats itself, or a light bulb flickers.

"Oh, I know. Stay calm, okay? We came prepared. Just hold still, this won't hurt a bit."

He pulled out a device from a backpack slung over his shoulder. It looked like a black hair dryer. He gripped the blue polymer handle strong, aiming it at her head.

He said to her, "This is tinkertech. It's going to extract the bomb by phasing inorganic material out from your skull. It's been tested and it's perfectly safe but don't ask me to explain it any better than that because I honestly have no idea. Just stand still."

She seized a deep breath, her hands stiff at her sides, hands clamped onto the front of tattered jeans underneath the coat. She couldn't believe it, but she was too worn to offer any resistance.

"O-Okay."

He pulled the trigger. A green light blew out from the fat opening. Taylor grit her teeth as something strange must have washed over her. She let out a wet sighful. Slowly, something began to emerge from her pale temple. A blinking black and blue box of wires and ticking guts was drawn out. It hovered in the air before being sucked into the device's mouth. At that, Grue dropped the device into his bag.

"Now we're almost there," he told her gently, then raising his voice, "Bomb's been neutralized TT. I'm going to go for the exit. Is the secondary objective complete?"

There was a brief moment where Taylor beheld her savior. She closed her eyes, nearly beginning to hyperventilate, but she steeled herself and exhaled a borrowed breath.

"W-w-w-we can't leave yet," Taylor mangled, "I-I-I've been building stuff for h-her and I j-just can't-"

He squeezed her hand, "Relax, okay? You don't have to worry about it. I've got it covered. Can you show me what you've been working on? We'll take it with us."

"I..." she hesitated, "Th-Thank you, but I think you should just get going without me. She'll- she'll be here any minute, I'm sure- I can barely walk! She's always there, she'll kill you, but if I can sabotage this, then-" She made a tiny fist, clenching, "Just let me-"

He sighed, "Taylor, I know you're scared. But just trust me, okay?"

She was silent. Was trust beyond her? He wasn't sure, neither was she.

"You want to get back at her, don't you?"

"I- I..." she squeezed her eyes shut tight, "Yes, of course, but- You should just... You should..."

She bit her lip, her eyes opening. Red and bloodshot, she stumbled forward, snapping out like a whip. Nearly tripping over her two feet, she crashed into a grimy sink and gripped it hard; white-knuckled-clenching. She held her balance for a breath. Her knees buckled too, but she stayed standing. Beside her was a plastic bag. She reached over, opening it up and rummaging through it with shaky hands. Bottles of volatile chemicals rolled out onto the ground. She eventually pulled out a plastic container and forced off the lid, not seeming to care about the mess.

Frantic. Manic. She said, "T-these are experimental, I'm not done with them... They're dangerous. A mixture of mine and Bakuda's. We need to destroy them."

She showed him the insides - what looked like a thousand purple beads. Jammed into what looked like a container for beauty cream.

"Explosives?"

She breathed, "Yes."

He took it, with the lid. Sealing it up tight, he deposited it in the duffel bag, "There's no time to dispose of them. They're coming with us."

"Okay."

"What else?" he asked, his sharp voice indicating how tightly pressed he felt.

She didn't respond right away. He was being very patient despite the alarm in his tone. He added, "We need to get going and soon."

"O-Okay," she turned again finally, then stumbled onto her tip toes as if she had remembered something important; ripping open cabinets one by one. She pulled out experiments she had been working on - more tiny, bottled capsules and box-shaped machines. And stored at the top of the cabinets were the shells and casings of bombs, arranged like ornaments. They looked like more traditional bombs and explosives - with timers and fuses on them.

"These aren't finished, but they're close to being done. We just needed a shipment of..." she shook her head and fed them to Brian, who filled the duffel bag up.

"Anything else?"

"N-No," she said, "Not here. Sh-Sh-Sh-Bakuda didn't trust me."

He nodded strong, "That's fine, you're doing great Taylor. I can call you Taylor for now, right?" he grabbed her hand again, holding it, "Or- I can give you a name?"

"It's o-okay," she said in a tiny voice, "Taylor."

"Great," he raised his voice, "TT, I'm extracting her now. I have the hot stuff on me, too."

He squeezed her tighter and whispered, meeting her eyes, "Hold on. My darkness - I can let you see in it if we stick close together, but I'd rather you didn't have to think, okay? Just let my hand guide you."

Before she could reply, the room was bathed in it. They started running. Brian noticed immediately she couldn't run. She was weak, an emaciated ghoul under that floppy lab coat. He pushed her on, tugging on her arm hard enough to tear it. The warehouse they were in moved by quickly. They heard the muffled, warped sounds of gunfire and ferocious barking. They burst through a metal door to the outside. Sunlight streamed through the darkness, but it too was distorted. Bending the shadows but not displacing them.

Slowly, the plumes of ebony smoke let up. It was disorienting to be outside, it seemed. Taylor was clutching her head tightly with both hands. Brian lead her into the front seat of a white van and helped her in.

Looking back on it, Grue's ethereal fog had distorted her sense of time. The warehouse was large and maze-like. She couldn't believe she could have walked as far as she did in the time it felt like it had taken them. She could barely stumble on her own. But she didn't want this to be a dream. She could see the sun. She was no longer trapped. 

"Prisoner extracted TT, do you need my help getting out of there?" Grue winced as loud feedback exploded from his headset, but a voice managed to break through the chaos, "Okay. Got that!"

He sounded relieved. He was leaning into the van, looking up at Taylor.

"She'll be out in a minute." He opened up the side of the van, ripping the door across, "How are you feeling?"

She didn't respond. Probably couldn't. She was looking mutely at her hands, her fingers bewitched by tiny tremors. Then, as a sudden thought consumed her. She pulled herself out of the dirty lab coat, throwing it out onto the cement driveway with a shiver of revulsion. He could see a torrent of vexing emotion wrench her face up tight. She slammed the back of her head into the headrest of her seat, making a pained grunt - frustration; a kind of jerking motion he'd seen some of Rachel's strays make when they were distressed.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She glanced at him, breathing unnaturally. She was crying, her wide lips pulled back in a smile.

He put a hand on her knee, rubbing it, "Shit. TT, she's a wreck. What do I do?"

A pause. Time going like a river. Taylor heard something over from the other side, but couldn't make it out. Grue wasn't sure how to handle this. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't. He squeezed her, shook her. She seemed to accept the situation; she couldn't decompress while they were still in danger.

Then he said, "Hey, Taylor, it's going to be okay. We're getting you out of here. Just another minute. Hold on, everyone's almost here. Then we can go."

"I..." Taylor drew a sob, "God, I just, I know- I sh-shouldn't, but really, rr-really just h-how many people?"

Brian wasn't able to come up with a good reply.

"H-How many did Ba-Ba-Ba-Bakuda... W-with m-m..."

He clamped hard on her knee, "Hey! Taylor, you didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault-"

"How many?!"

"Taylor, this isn't the time for this-" but she was sobbing completely now, her body shaking all over.

He had imagined this going differently. In his mind, Taylor was too weak to be anything more than numb or unresponsive. But here, she still had the strength to care; even after many weeks of Bakuda's twisted tortures. He wouldn't wish that kinda of treatment upon any of his enemies, besides maybe Bakuda herself; nevermind a girl that was reminding him uncomfortably of his little sister, Aisha.

"TT, she's breaking up. What do I say? She thinks it's all her fault that-"

A pause. There hadn't been gunfire for a good twenty seconds now, so he'd gambled by bothering Tattletale again. Grue was hoping the battle was at its end so they could get the train moving. But then, then another start-

He spoke over the sound of bullets, a powerful calmness in his words, "Taylor, listen to me-"

The ground shook. Brian lost his balance and had to grab onto the open van door to stay upright.

"What the blazing fuck?" he wheezed, coughing as dust rippled in the air around them, billowing from the door to the warehouse they'd left wide open.

He pulled himself up, "TT, what just happened?"

"TT? Tattletale?" he repeated.

"Shit," he looked up at the girl who was holding herself tight in her seat, her eyes soulgazing him, "Shit. Taylor, I need to go back in. Communication's cut and-"

"B-Bakuda's here," she said, her voice pinched so tight it came out as crackling static.

Shit. This was really bad.

"Listen to me Taylor," he unhefted the duffel bag, "I'm going to go back in. Look at the clock. If, if I don't come out in three minutes, or if something else- just drive. If you can't drive, just run, just run as fast as you can, okay? Okay Taylor? Just run. Get help."

She was still sobbing, he wasn't sure if he'd gotten through the tortured girl's mind. He didn't have time to deal with it. He just had to hope she would take his advice - getting her away from Bakuda was honestly more important than anything at this point. He put the duffel bag in her lap and sprinted back into the building, a column of darkness spreading out from him. Inside the warehouse, he found chaos. Tall shelves were toppled, machinery sparking. Sprinkler systems sprayed water erratically and small fires licked the ground. He found one of Bakuda's goons buried under a twisted metal rack, crushed dead. It was a grisly sight, his cranium cracked open, fleshy paste spilling out of caved limbs.

He moved hurriedly through the expansive building. He found the epicenter of the explosion - easily too. Part of the building had collapsed in. A controlled explosion blew bricks of concrete and stone apart. The flaming wreckage of a van was the symbol of its entry, the driver side completely blown apart, the other half of the wreckage outside in the smoking daylight. It looked like it had pierced the side of the building as it had spontaneously exploded. A suicide bomber, maybe? That's what Brian's mind immediately deduced.

Didn't matter what it was that had happened. He found Regent first. He was wheezing, his face covered in acrid vapors, dusting his skin gray. Debris buried him into the ground, only his head and shoulders visible.

"H-hey, chief boss-man," he said sarcastically, "Could have used you a minute ago. Where the f-f-fuck..."

"Regent," he said gently, "I'm going to try and move you. Do you know if the others-"

"I have no idea," he spat, blood splattering out of his mouth when he spoke, "Just leave me here. I'm basically-"

"Regent, you're fine. Honestly," he meant to joke, though it came out differently; wetness in his throat as he grunted, pushing cinder blocks and flaming metal off him, "This isn't the time for dramatics."

He carefully pulled him out. That Regent didn't moan in pain, it meant... Regent looked a lot worse underneath the wreckage.

"H-heh," he coughed, "Do me a favor, kill Bakuda for me, would you? And I s-should... you know... for... ap..."

And then Regent closed his eyes.

"S-shit, Regent..." he breathed, pulling the Undersider out from where he lied. He didn't want to look at him, so he left him there and stepped over the smoking wreckage beyond. There wasn't time to do anything more for him. He needed to find the others before he could take him.

He was numb, but he dulled the feeling in his chest by looking on ahead. On the other side of the warehouse he found a greater sort of destruction, with the ceiling caved in and shattered brick strewn everywhere. Armed men were dead on their feet, covered in dust and blood. But there too was an unscathed portion and there he found her - Bakuda. She was dressed in a bleached white lab coat and short black bike shorts. Unscathed, if caked in dust. Her lips were painted a glassy pink, a painfully pleased, painfully mad smile visible even from where he stood, crouched behind some of the destruction. She was livid. She was loud. Standing over Rachel, who was prone and practically defenseless.

"Bitch is such a fitting name for you," Bakuda sneered, "Did you really think I'd let a bunch of bitches get away with fucking with my shit? You had this coming to you, thinking you could pull this shit in broad daylight against me. Do you honestly think I'm so stupid? Well news for you downs girl, I'm not. I'm a genius." She beamed, "If overrated hacks like Armsmaster and Dragon couldn't stop me, then--"

Rachel was smiling. But snarling was a better word for it. Her lips were drawn back, her teeth bared. She had one hand clenched on the ground behind her, propping her up. The girl had her other arm pinned under heavy bricks. Her dogs... He didn't see them. There were tears in her eyes, streaks staining her face. She was a mess of furious spite and pained shock.

"You... You..." she seethed between climbing breaths.

But her voice was hollow. And Brian had an idea why. If her dogs weren't around, tearing Bakuda apart, it was very likely they got the brunt of the blast. They were likely buried in the mountain in the distance. It was possible they were still alive given their insane strength, but they would be crushed underneath. They were likely to suffocate soon, if they had even survived.

Brian was a decent enough shot, having practiced a lot, but he didn't really use guns - he wasn't the lethal type and he preferred more peaceful resolutions, despite his career choice. But for this mission? Well, with what intelligence they'd gotten on Bakuda - on top of what she had done to Brockton Bay the past few weeks - he was more than willing to pack some heat for her. He had prepared himself mentally for this mission. But, he wasn't super confident he could hit her from here in the first couple of shots. There was definitely a chance he could miss her head and he didn't want to gamble with a non-lethal shot. He also wasn't sure if it wouldn't kill them all, even if he did succeed. Bakuda was a bomb tinker and Tattletale had suspected she'd have some kind of defense at being shot in the head, maybe even a suicide explosive. He didn't want to second guess someone as crazy as her. So, he ideally needed a more careful takedown. Like a knockout attack, or something to at least buy Rachel time to escape. His power lent itself to ambushes and sucker punches, but Rachel was right there! She was likely to be caught in whatever he tried anyway. And as much as he didn't like her, he didn't... After... No, he couldn't dwell on that right now.

The only hope he had was he hadn't seen Tattletale anywhere. She was either dead or she was plotting something. He hoped to God it was the latter. He needed a miracle right now, if he wanted to get Rachel and Regent out of this alive. Rachel needed to stall for time, but she wasn't a talker. Bakuda would be enthralled in any kind of bickering or posturing, but Rachel wouldn't be able to use that- 

"Fuck you," Rachel bit out.

With a surprising surge of strength, Rachel wrenched her arm free. It was covered in scrapes and bloody cuts but nothing appeared broken or mangled. Bakuda was startled when the girl just started getting to her feet and she reached into her labcoat, pulling out a gun. But Rachel swung first, smacking the gun out of her hand. It went off, a bullet ricocheting off some debris. It tumbled and rolled away as Rachel grappled Bakuda's shoulders and threw her weight forward. They crashed onto the ground, Rachel straddling her. She snarled and howled, clawing at her face with her fingers, raking her nails into those callous eyes.

"You stupid inbred bitch!" 

Bakuda bucked her hips to try and throw Rachel off her, but Bitch just held on even tighter, squeezing with her thighs. She grabbed Bakuda's shoulders again. There was a hard, cold smack as she slammed the tinker's back and head into the dusty wreckage. After he was moving closer, Brian only just realized he was running mad-dash to support her. He also realized too late it was a hasty thoughtless mistake. Bakuda managed to dig her hand into a pocket in her thigh. 

She lucidly pulled out a flashbang and set it off point blank. 

White.

The sound and white glow were deafening. He was only able to hasten the effect's end by quickly wreathing himself in his smog defensively. When the flash faded from his eyes, Bakuda had backed herself away from Rachel; the girl on her back, trying to get up. He was about to extend his field of darkness over them all, but decided against it, Bakuda's wicked smile too confident. She had something already planned and he didn't want her to act on it. Instead, he leveled the gun at her.

"Bakuda. Put your hands up or I'll shoot."

In a way, the situation hadn't improved. He wasn't close enough. She now knew he was there. Rachel still wasn't out of danger. And Bakuda was still planning something stupid.

But her hands went up. With a wicked smile, Bakuda was staring down at them both. He only just realized his blunder. In both of her hands threaded between her fingers she had cocktails of bite-sized explosives. Before either of them could properly consider a safe way to disarm her, she threw them. Brian shielded his face and tried to jump back, but it was too little, too late. They went off, their contents spilling out with a plume of disorienting smoke and another blinding white flash. He felt the gun get ripped from his grasp as a shockwave blew him off his feet.

When the cloud cleraed, he realized with dread what she'd drawn. Bakuda's explosives had been nothing to sneeze at before, but through the use of her prisoner Taylor, Bakuda had concocted her tech in more creative contraptions. Those capsules hadn't been bombs, but devices capable of deploying other internalized tech. When the smoke was cleared, he found himself held in place, prone on his back, by a cruel person-sized claw. Serrated blades in the form of long fingers and toes bit numbly into his wrists and ankles like small bear traps, holding him down. Robotic arms adapted to his resistance, flexing as it was biting into his skin, contorting to resist his struggling - painfully. With a mechanical squeal he found himself now staring into the face of a massive drill, an arm reaching forward toward his chest. Rachel was in a worse machine. Numerous drills were poised at her skull. She was held in place at a painful angle, her spine contorted. It was like a robotic octopus had wrapped itself around her.

Bakuda had wanted to build a reputation of fear. She certainly had. But these things were new. He didn't recognize them. He'd heard of battlefield-surgeries done on defenseless civilians, but this was something else entirely.

"How do you like my newest toys?" Bakuda laughed giddily. She was a little off, more than usual. Probably a result of getting the back of her head smashed against the hard ground, "Explosives are just lovely, but the experiments with my pet helped me realize I could do... so much more. Impromptu torture, torture on the go, or instant torture gratification! Oh, what shall I call them? They're deployable from 'bombs' too, so as not to contradict my namesake. Not completely practical in combat mind you, but useful for when you've already won." She looked at Brian, "And thanks for finally joining us, Mister Voyeur. I'm glad I'll have an opportunity to get some additional QA work done. My pet isn't a very good test case any more, you see. She only screams under particular circumstances."

Brian breathed cool, but a shuddering breath still came out. He didn't want panic to take him over, but... This situation seemed hopeless. He'd fucked up. He had made a lot of mistakes going into this, especially in the last ten seconds. He'd staunched his gut instincts; he should have just taken the shot. Just knowing Bakuda, he should have just gone all in, even if it meant risking Rachel's safety. Now, there was very little hope of them getting out of this. Unless Lisa? She'd bailed them out before, like at the bank. But at this point, it felt like he was better off putting his faith in God than in any single person.

"Oh, and I'm thinking about taking on a second pet," she said, looking at Rachel, "Would you like to see how I conduct my surgeries, boya? I've never had an audience to show it off to before," she laughed, "Sorry, that was a lie of course. But I do so love virgin eyes."

"You're sick, twisted, and wrong, Bakuda. Do you think you'll get away with this shit for much longer? They're talking about bringing in Legend to deal with you. You should just run right now, before they call in the Triumvirate. They won't have any mercy for you." 

Weak words, but stalling was all he could do for now. And even the words rang wrong to him. His heart wasn't in it and he knew nothing would convince Bakuda short of a gun cocked at her face. If that.

"Wrong? Wrong you say? You're stupid - this, this is right. This is perfect. They're already so petrified, if all I need to do is best a ball of hot air like Legend - which I can easily do with a few choice creations - then they'll never dare try to touch me again. I'm nearly on that level now; they won't make a move against me if they fear I can take the city hostage at a thought." She laughed madly, her incoherent thoughts spilling out, "And you two? You'll make nice effigies. I love that word, you know? A warning for the fools that think they can tell me what to do. This is what happens when you try to mess with Lady Bakuda, brains AND might of the ABB. This is what happens when you think you can outsmart her: your guts spilled all over the floor and your brain ground up into sushi! This city's fear? It's already palpable; it won't be very long until ALL share that fear."

As she spoke, Bakuda walked toward Brian, eyeing him like he was a delicious sweet. He decided to chance it, to let smoke ebb out of him, shrouding himself and Rachel in rapidly floating darkness. He wasn't sure it would do much more than delay her as she walked into the plume unabashed. But maybe it would do s-- he looked at the menacing drill pointed at his sternum. It started spinning, whirring up the darkness with a high pitched whine. He tried thrashing, but winced hard. The blades holding him down clamped harder on him, cutting into his skin painfully and making warm blood run. He felt hot bolts of agony lance him. He was surprised when a strong dome of wind blew through, dispelling his darkness. The drilling stopped just a hair from his flesh. He saw Bakuda blink, an arm's length from him.

"What the hell?" Bakuda said, looking down at the floor. At her feet was a small-

"G-get down on the g-ground," a trembling voice said.

Brian realized the device had let him go, its bloody clamps unhinged. He wormed out shakily, blood running from his wounds as he rolled out. Rachel was crawling her way out of her contorted prison with feral grunts. He turned toward the voice, surprised to find Taylor clad in dirty white rags and shredded jeans. She had a pistol clenched in both of her bony hands, the end of the gun pointed at Bakuda. She was standing on a mound of debris, taking tiny steps closer. They could all hear the clods of rubble roll down behind her.

"You? You bitch!" Bakuda swore, taking a step forward and crushing the remains of a grenade-shaped device under her foot, "You dare to use my-"

"Shut the f-f-fuck up." Taylor said coldly, "Y-You have nothing now. T-that was one of your EMP b-bombs," she was breathing hard, a dark glint in her eyes. A mad glint. She was as hateful as Rachel, malice making her face squeeze.

"Do I, my pathetic pet?" Bakuda taunted, "Get on your knees this instant. Honestly, you have the gall to stand up to me again? Do you really think I could be so easily defeated? By you? For weeks and weeks you tried, you tried so pathetically to outsmart me. But you remember what happens when you defy me. Drop the gun and get back to the playroom. Now."

Taylor clenched it tighter, her eyes becoming circuits. Tears flowed. Her knees shook. But she stood. Brian could see just how fragile she was, there wasn't an ounce of fat on those thighs, her arms like sticks. She was a living skeleton, a shell of a human.

Bakuda took another step toward Taylor, bolder. She was smiling triumphantly, apparently used to having this power over the girl, "Do I have to repeat myself? Do I have to remind you of your place? What will again happen if you try defying me? Maybe it'll really be your father this time. Maybe it'll be your school. Are you so stupid that you really think, that now, that after all this time, you can just turn-"

"Yes."

She fired. She had been aiming for Bakuda's head, but missed. It struck the tinker in the shoulder instead and she stumbled back, shocked. She hadn't thought Taylor would shoot her, apparently. There was a delayed scream of pain, Bakuda only then feeling her shoulder ooze lifeblood, it drizzling her labcoat brown and crimson. The wound was spurting all over her.

"Y-You fucking moron! That's it- Drop the gun, or I'll set off your-"

"Yes."

She fired again and blood exploded into the air. This time her shot just grazed Bakuda's ear, blowing an ugly hole of blood. The attack was deafening and Bakuda painfully clamped her hands over her ears as she fell backwards in shock. Taylor aimed the gun down at her fallen form and prepared to fire again, but Brian called out.

"Wait Taylor- She might have a- switch- don't kill her-"

"Yes."

She fired a third time.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Then a fourth, then a fifth. The shots exploded louder than her words, warping them. His words didn't reach over that sound of ecstatic gunfire. Each bullet impacted Bakuda's body in a different way, a shriek ripping out of her throat. But because Taylor was a bad shot, it didn't look like they were lethal. Each wound was like the downpour of rain, the steep angle of Taylor's shot doing agonizing damage to the woman. It hurt Bakuda to even spasm and quake after each splattering blow.

Weakened, he moved as fast as he could to her side, "Wait," he told her, reaching out his hands, "Wait Taylor, we don't know if she doesn't have a kill switch set up- don't-"

Taylor was panting hard, staring at her bloody handiwork with a cold, perplexed expression. And when he'd ran up to her, she'd pointed the gun at him. Either because she was startled, because she was totally out of her mind, or both.

"T-Taylor," he said shakily, realizing he couldn't do much if she shot him from here.

But slowly, she lowered the gun. Dropping it when she felt the icy cold metal against her belly. It clattered. She sank to her knees, tears spilling out. She was shaking. Brian wished he could do something, but he was bleeding and they needed to leave. He touched her face with his bloody fingers and angled her face up.

"Get up, we need to go."

By a miracle, she stood up without a fussing word, her knees buckling again as she did. He reached down and took the gun painfully. He looked over at Bitch then, seeing her move toward the destruction, freed from that heavy metal serpent on the ground.

"Bitch, we need to get going."

It spoke to him then, how distanced he was from it all. Like his power was washing over his brain, making him view the situation from a shadowy place elsewhere in the building. He was moving automatically, doing things he knew he needed to do, even if it seemed impossible to be done. His role as "leader" had all but possessed him.

"I'm not leaving without my dogs!"

Rachel had a sort of tenacity too. As quick as things had gone awry, as quickly as they'd been resolved, she was able to stay fixated on the one thing that grounded her. And shit. There was no reasoning her when she got like this. Even in a situation like this, she'd rather die than...

"They're over there," a weak voice rang out.

Brian was so relived when he saw her. Propped up against a wall was Tattletale. She was caked in greasy powder and soot. Behind her was a battered metal locker. It must have been obvious, his relief, for she smiled warmly at him.

"So what did I miss?" she asked cheekily, though her voice was quite raw with pain and emotion, "Last thing I knew, Regent shoved me into a locker. Hit my head real bad when- Oh." Her eyes were scanning the room, but she seemed to know what had gone on, "Damn. I should have anticipated a kamikaze-style entrance." Lisa was so blasé. Just as fucked up as him and Rachel. It explained how she could fit in so well with them. She started to move then, but crumpled to her feet. Brian stumbled forward over the rubble and helped her up as best he could. Taylor was standing over him too, her expression hollow if apparently resolute. Bitch was fast approaching, interrupting the moment.

"Where did you say they were?!"

They had moved slowly at first, until the urgency of the situation grew more obvious to their racing minds and overpowered their sluggish bodies; the blood ebbing with a wet sound from Brian's wounds. Tattletale helped them to to where she had heard whining, said it had woken her up. The sound traveled in a distorted manner, but they were able to locate Brutus and Angelica within a minute. They were injured to the point where their coats were bloody, their eyes glassy. But when Rachel touched them gently, her power affected them. They began to transform until they healed fully, breaking completely free from their prisons.

They found Judas not far from them. He was dead. Rachel was made immediately despondent, unable to think or move. But they hadn't the time. Tattletale helped move him move the dog's lifeless body onto Angelica's back. They found Regent next. To Brian's surprise, he was still breathing. Tattletale said that moving him would kill him and his spark of hope was crushed. They had to keep moving. But he had refused to believe Regent would leave them like this. Vut the reality was that he was as good as dead. There was nothing any of them could do to-

Their then silent tag along hero, Taylor, then spoke up.

"I can save him."

He snapped around at her, remembering her presence. Remembering where they were again. Time was of the essence, with everyone wounded or hurting, and he was just standing there, looking at Regent's pallid face.

"Taylor, are you okay?" he wanted to make sure she wasn't unhinged - he'd been a little freaked when she'd pulled the gun on him. Too many conflicting priorities. They needed to leave, like now.

She pulled out a small pill from the duffel slung around her shoulder. A red little pill. No, it was a bomb. A tiny little bomb. Or a pill? A pill-bomb. Whatever it really was, he immediately knew he didn't want anything to do with it.

"This is something Bakuda developed from one of my..." she shook her head, "-it's a stasis bomb. It will freeze him, for like, I don't how long. But we can probably move him if with it."

She threw it at Regent before anyone could say anything. When it struck him, a cloud of smoke erupted. The faint cloud dispersed rapidly, revealing a totally inert teen. Tattletale blinked, surveyed him, then nodded.

Lisa looked at it and nodded, "She's right. He's frozen- on a temporal level- holy fucking shit that's amazing- But there isn't much time for him, even if he doesn't move."

There wasn't, they had to keep moving. They forced Rachel to shoulder the burden of moving the frozen Regent, which she did without complaint. Brian lead them to the getaway van, barreling out of the building with desperate breath. They heard sirens in the distance. Unfortunately for them, first responders were nearly there. Firemen and any number of squad cars were coming. The dogs got into the van first. Rachel stumbled in with them, wrapping her arms around the dogs. Brian pushed the doors shut, wincing in pain. He was still bleeding bad, so he took the back seat. Lisa moved weakly into the driver's seat, still regaining her composure. Taylor took the front seat again, the duffel bag laid in her lap. The engine started. They pulled out, zooming past an oncoming fire truck. Taylor watched them go. She wondered if she should have asked to be let out, but exhaustion and ebbing relief took away her mind and she slept soundlessly.

\---

"Didn't go without a hitch," Lisa said into a mobile phone on her ear as she drove, veering a hard right that made everyone shake and sway, "We're going to get medical. Regent is in critical condition, Brian's hurt. Please have a team ready for us."

"Judas," Rachel moaned pitifully in the back, making Brian's heart pinch. He didn't like her, but she sounded almost destroyed.

"Yes, prisoner's secured. Bakuda might be dead, don't know. We didn't get the money either. Regent dropped it, or it got lost in an explosion." Her voice was dead tired as she added finally, "I don't know if she can today. That's all." She hung up, wondered why she had just done that when her ears were ringing, and then realized none of them had the right to be doing anything until they received treatment.

They almost had all died. Looking back on it, it was a crazy mission; way above her pay-grade. But from looking at the passenger in the front sleeping, Lisa knew she had no regrets about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to keep the ball rolling on this, even if this particular bit's a bit rough around the edges!

Taylor stared at herself. She was surprised she could recognize the body before her. Well, that was maybe being overly dramatic. But sometimes a little drama was necessary to wake up somebody, so it was appropriate. Taylor had been numb for a long time, she just didn't realize it until just now, when the doctor's words lanced her sharply. When she'd woken from a small nap, she'd expected to sleep longer, truthfully, but she couldn't. There'd been a pulse, a quickening as she'd realized- No. Not yet.

Coup contrecoup. Brain damage.

Taylor had never dreamed she'd be at a place like this. A quiet private clinic, with the latest in high-tech medical equipment. Who could afford this? Why would they help her like this? Questions without answers, for now. There was just too much going on to dwell on it.

She'd been passive during the scans. But looking back, she should have been more nervous about them. Was she going to be okay? The doctor said so, just that ... complications. She wasn't afraid to ask what was on her mind. Admittedly, that wasn't very much, but it was enough to make the doctor feel better. Truthfully, she had suspected all along something wasn't right with her and that was why she had been so calm. Her ability to speak had been impaired after one long and foggy morning. Bakuda had brutalized her on more than one occasion, but even so there were times she couldn't contain her own body's shaking. A twitching hand had cost Bakuda quite a few weapons. Really, it was a miracle Taylor hadn't blown herself up working for her captor. Well, obviously, that wouldn't happen. As crazy as Bakuda was, she was also a genius. She'd only let Taylor work on things that wouldn't also ~~harm~~ arm her-

telescoping helicopter rotor quantum monopoles using monomer solution lift drone body enough torque to maintain heavy duty power supply for cytidine reactant simulates electron collision

She had had many ideas. But Bakuda had only let her work on her own plans. Her own disgusting murderous vain ideas. Parts for bombs. Parts for weapons. Drones for delivery. Her specialty, her adaptability, used for trite, stupid projects - projects she knew had gone on to injure, kill, torture, maim, disease, horrify hundreds, if not thousands of people. Directly or indirectly. She had been the cause of- how could she go back? How could she be forgiven? No, she couldn't think like that. It was already painful enough- Her ideas suppressed, her creativity captured, her mind- she was free. Free to think. Finally? What should have been relieving was not. Was frightening- ideas forgotten, resurrecting-

miura fold to minimize surface area before deployment with thermal absorption using Bakuda's dynacharge heatsink-

"As far as urgent care is concerned, you're fine," the doctor whose face she couldn't quite focus on said. Actually, she wasn't able to read his body language either. She saw through him, and his words - she was not fine, no not fine, but he didn't want to cause her any more grief and that was mutual as far as she was vaguely concerned, "But there are a lot of things we'll need followups for. Unless of course, well, given that you're a Tinker, the chance that you'll come into contact with Panacea is quite high. She could probably alleviate some of my larger concerns, if her miracle-working abilities are to be believed. Which they are. Really, it's a possibility, perhaps even a plan to consider."

-use lithium batteries for availability?

Taylor sincerely doubted something so charmed as that would happen to her. She wasn't usually that lucky. She said nothing, however. She had no intentions of troubling Panacea. Nor did Taylor trust herself to speak about anything complicated right now. Besides, there was an honest to god waiting list for Panacea's abilities. It didn't feel right to sidestep that, even if her own injuries were fairly severe. Besides, Panacea couldn't fix everything. 

Time passed as the doctor talked about caring for her electrical burns and sunburns (which sounded a lot like the things she had experienced while working on Bakuda's last projects to involve alpha ray radiation), explaining the importance of regular hygiene and application of some topical lotions. For a shady underground doctor, he was awfully bedside with her, she thought. He said a few comforting things, left her some contact information, then told her she could go. Taylor floated out of the examination room, carrying a small rattling bag for full medication she'd been prescribed. She met up with Tattletale in the waiting room. It took Taylor a moment to notice she was even there. Tattletale too, because Taylor had been as silent as a ghost slinking up from behind.

"Hey," the pretty blonde's voice called out to her.

-use lithium batteries for availability? She hadn't been able to decide because she felt lithium-pitchblende substrate had the potential for greater longevity and would generate less heat which was important considering how many nanopacitors would be on each die-

Taylor hesitated. In some small way, she had blamed the Undersiders for what had happened. It wasn't rational, she knew that much. They had barely interacted before, just that, they'd gotten into a grisly situation with Lung, and she being an idiot, had decided to intervene in their defense. At a crucial moment, Tattletale had made the mistake of leaving her behind. Had she grabbed her hand, or pushed her, or shouted, or anything really- things might have come out differently. Taylor though, couldn't truly recall what had happened to her. All she had felt was the rumbling of the building under them and then its sudden collapse.

-that said, pitchblende would be challenging to process safely without the right equipment-

She couldn't fault Tattletale. She had chosen to be a hero for herself. She had chosen to walk this path, knowing the risks. Something unspeakable had transpired, something she had to use big words for, to distance herself from it.      Besides, trinitite glass would be a beautiful substitute for regular Plexiglas, a shame it was still sufficiently radioactive.     Already, she was trying to push the time far away from her. But it was impossible. It came back, crawling through her. She couldn't help but think-- this was a lot like-- tightly folded springsteel shock absorption-- Taylor cringed, touching her head. Thoughts threatened to overflow. She wanted to coil up into herself, slither under a rock and never come out. She felt like a stupid idiotic fool. Someone that didn't deserve to keep breathing. And yet, she also felt not as bad as she thought she ought to feel. She had recognized this numbness, found it intriguing. The pain wasn't quite that bad. Oh, it was bad, but it wasn't something she felt could keep her down. She had already suffered a lot becoming who she was. Suffered a lot, countless hours spent screwing tiny screws into NZ47 platnium electro-plated motherboards designed to- the memory leaks not sufficient concerns given the       flight time would take care of the     garbage collection- It was hard not to be thankful to be alive, even if living did seem to always be quite miserable for her- even if- it was killing her to keep standing, to keep awake. She was so tired. She just wanted to rest. But she couldn't, no matter what, because she was on the cusp of something- the cusp of something she couldn't build yet even if she had the time, because she- she was still- if she just made it, it could solve          everything

Taylor bravely shook her head and dispelled all those competing thoughts. It was a trainwreck, her heart, her body, her mind; all but her spirit had seemed to betray her. In the end, she had not expected to live. Yet she was here. It wouldn't be long before she'd see Dad again. Right? Taylor smiled sadly as she acknowledged the voice. She felt a little unguarded without a mask, but they had already seen her at her worst. She doubted a mask would hide much from this girl.

"Tatttttttttletale," Taylor came forward- wearing clothes not distinctly hers, but felt comfortable enough, loose baggy jeans and a fuzzy sweater, "Th-Th-thank you." Taylor did not blush under her own stammering, for it was something she had become quite accustomed to. If stuttering in front of Bakuda couldn't embarrass her, then certainly she'd feel no shame in doing so before Tattletale.

 _Thank you for leaving me to Lung and his insane bomb-crafting bitch, Bakuda?_ No, nothing as backhanded as that. She did genuinely feel thanks. Whatever their reasons for helping, whatever her own reasons for blaming the Undersiders, they had pulled her out of that situation. That atrocity. More words. More repetition. Make it a chant to make it go away! What was another good word for it? Every word just seemed so magical and superficial. What did you call a kidnapping other than a living nightmare? But even that sounded so distanced and magical.

Tattletale was seemingly comfortable showing her naked face around her. It didn't sit well with Taylor as she didn't want to be responsible for knowing the face of a villain, but she supposed it couldn't really be helped. Nobody was in any state to be disguised here. They spoke briefly about it, a lot of concern showing on her face, though Taylor was too preoccupied to take notice of it. Taylor couldn't even really follow the words she was saying to Lisa (Tattletale had confessed her true name to her when?), she couldn't even really focus on much-- inspiration had struck her-- her fingers twitched. She had to shove her hands in her pockets. She had to stay focused. Lisa was a nice name, but she wondered why Tattletale would tell her that. It didn't really make sense to her. She wished she had the mental power remaining to analyze it, but she was already up to capacity trying to reign in her thoughts...

They talked a little while, somberly on a waiting-room couch in the pale mauve speckled tile waiting room. It was a dreamy conversation, but pleasant enough considering what company Taylor had been keeping for the past two months or so (Lisa had mentioned a date and a time, but to be honest it probably wouldn't settle in for many days just how long Taylor had been working as Bakuda's tinker-slave).

Alec cut it close. Brian's injuries were worse than than they'd even seemed. Lisa was suffering from a mildly annoying headache. Rachel was swollen and despondent. Their team was pretty much battered, if not broken. Lisa could see it more clearly and sincerely didn't seem shaken up by it. It was more like- resigned. In a way, she was similar to Taylor, just accepting that they had done what they thought was necessary. It hadn't gone well, but it was over. Now all they could do was wait and let the consequences unfold.

Although Lisa hadn't asked the girl how she was fairing directly (it was much too painful of a question to phrase), she'd been able to gather what she needed to just from a few innocent remarks. There were complications. Long term and short term. She'd need to see Panacea for the physical ones. Nutrient deficiency, internal and external scarring, numerous burns, plus some improperly-healed bone fractures. They'd have to be rebroken and then properly healed. There were things Panacea couldn't heal though, like mental scars. Taylor was unstable, her focus ebbing and flowing. She looked lucid, but she would also cast a far-off gaze as she spoke in broken fragments. Lisa couldn't figure out what was up with her, but chalked it up to the fact she ought to be resting. She knew Taylor would resist the suggestion though, probably at least until she was home with her father.

Reasonably satisfied with her conclusions, Lisa thought that this had gone roughly as Coil had planned it would. By the end of the day, or sooner, Taylor would be under the Protectorate's custody. Bakuda was defeated, or better, dead. The damage had been done to Taylor and there wasn't anything Lisa herself could do to make amends for it, though she'd make what little tweaks she could to see the girl off. She didn't feel like she owed the rail-thin girl anything. But it would be a lie if her situation didn't make her wrench in pity. Maybe she saw a little of herself in her. Or maybe she saw a little of her brother in her. She couldn't say for sure and she didn't want to spin her motives on Freudian thoughts. She wanted to believe she was doing this because it was honestly the easiest thing to do. Which she unfortunately knew deep down was a lie. 

The girls stood and turned toward a door as it opened suddenly. An inconspicuous man slipped inside with a subtle click, removing a hat and dipping his chin with a small smile. Tattletale recognized him intimately. Mister Pitter. He'd arrived dressed more formally than usual, a suit and tie ornamented by a slick cane. She hated the sight of the man, she could see how weak and craven he was under that soft exterior. But she had to put up with him, especially since he would be playing the part of Coil for now. He bore her boss's serpentine mask in one hand, slipping it on with a nod to them both. Tattletale thought it was odd. Taylor shouldn't have seen that. It didn't make sense. She almost raised it, but feared what might be said. Either way, it didn't bode well. Why would Coil want Taylor to see that? It couldn't have been a mistake, could it? She looked at Taylor to judge her reaction to it, but found it difficult to parse. That was worrying. Threatening a more painful headache than what she was already experiencing, Tattletale pushed a little harder on her power-

The tinker in the room did seem a little confused, though it was to be expected. She hadn't seen that mask before, nor she had any idea who this person was.

"Howdy girls," Mr. Pitter said, "I heard you barely got out of there." He strode up to Tattletale, making her shake his hand, "Will you be able to assist me tonight?"

Feeling she had no choice, Tattletale nodded, "Sure," she chirped, adding for Taylor's benefit, "Boss man."

He then approached Taylor, who held herself well under the scrutiny of that mask. Rather, there wasn't very much to hold currently. The teen had seen a lot of grotesque things in her time with the ABB and the sight of that mask had made her go vacant. She didn't respond to him when he introduced himself and stuck out his hand. While not the very essence of cultured villainy, his graceful posture and starkly serpentine mask betrayed a certain kind of skittering intimidation reminiscent of Lung's business-like lieutenants. Mr. Pitter found Taylor's hollow stare equally disturbing.

"She's...not all there," Lisa announced feebly, realization slowly donning on her, it explained so much right then, "Just give her a minute."

Just gazing off into empty space and breathing wetly for a minute, Taylor did eventually recover after Lisa prodded her, speaking to her in gentle tones. Taylor then shook the offered hand absently. Mr. Pitter thought it was incredible the abused and beaten girl was standing under her own power, but Tattletale could see Taylor was using strength borrowed from the future to see herself through to the end, today. It was very obvious to Mr. Pitter she wasn't in any state to be walking around. Anybody else in her situation would just collapse and not get up for days, but something- be it fear or something else- was driving her forward. He could respect that.

"Has Tattletale told you about how things are going to be going on today, Miss Hebert?"

"No, I d-don't... thththink ss-ss-ss-ssso-so?"

"Well, that's understandable. There's a lot to cover, however, so please try to pay attention," he cleared his throat, "You see, I, as well as several other independent parties, entered into a temporary truce with the Protectorate to chiefly, decimate the Asian Bad Boyz. We had many secondary objectives as well, one of which was to find and recover you. However, there's been a bit of a problem. The Protectorate seems to be backing out of their part of the deal. So we'll meet in person, to settle the dispute. That might sound like I'm trying to downplay it, but I assure you this is just a quibbling of the details of the original agreement. You see what I need is  
                     8 mg lead sulfate MX707 circuit board  
input column A English sentence  
           you to cooperate         not              electrum condenser coil four high powered electromagnetic motors 5 ohm resistor  
input column B edge detection algorithm pictographs  
            Armsmaster       and tell them what you know                two eight volt batteries silicon piezoelectric ignition circuit  
input column C relational database  
               long spool of copper wire eight six core processors two thousand watt power supplies  
recursively feed training data into competing integration tests  
           can you do that for us, please?                dielectric fanblades o-ring quick-mold plastic rubber tubing  
networking cloud storage data reseed

Mr. Pitter felt her hand twitch in his. Rather, spasming was the word he'd use. She clutched him hard, as if she was trying to stifle her quaking.

"Miss Hebert?" Mr. Pitter had a deceptive gentleness in his tone, "Are you all right?"

"I...I need-d-d," she bit her tongue.

"Shit." Tattletale could tell just from the expression Taylor was making, "She needs to Tinker."

"Excuse me?"

"I should have realized it. The girl should be resting, but obviously she's- fuck."

"I'm...fine."

Mr. Pitter had to extract his hand using his other. The fragile girl had a surprising deathgrip on him.

"She's really not," Lisa took purchase of Taylor's chin and peered into her dilated eyes. Not that inspecting them would give her any deeper insight, only that she knew Taylor would be unable to lie under such a look, "Are you?"

The tinker exhaled deep excising a crawling breath, "No."

"I thought so. But it's not your fault. Something... yeah. Bakuda did something to you."

"She did many horrific things to the girl Tattletale, please suspend the dramatic flair as it's really inappropriate given the situation. How do we solve this? The last thing I want is for the Protectorate to think that we've-"

"It's okay!" Taylor's voice was torn asunder as she held back tears, "It's okk-k-kay."

Lisa released her chin, barking an order at Coil's impersonator, "I know why you're here, but can't it wait? She needs to let loose."

"It doesn't really matter to me, but we are on a time table. Can you take care of it, here? Quickly? And you mustn't let her burn herself out, we'll need her awake to confirm our case, or they might just decide to 'reign us in'."

Lisa gave Taylor a look, her expression darkening as she realized the teary-eyed girl had gone nearly catatonic standing. She lightly tapped her cheek until the girl regained consciousness, "Hey. Hey, you want to- you've got something you want to make, right? Can you do it here?"

"Make? It? Here?"

"Yeah." Lisa snapped her fingers, "We have that duffel full of crap from...the warehouse. Does that have everything maybe you'll need?"

Taylor seemed surprised genuinely by the suggestion. She nodded ethereally as if she was overcome with relief. Instead, it was more like a junkie experiencing an anticipatory high.

"Yes."

"Great," she gestured to "Coil", "We'll-"

"-be no longer than half an hour."

Lisa grit her teeth, smiling brilliantly, "Sure. Fine. Like, I psychically know how long this'll take."

He shrugged, "Then Apply the necessary pressure to make it happen. We can't be late. They're expecting elegant cooperation from us."

"Right."


End file.
